


Boudoir Commando

by PhantomProducer



Series: A Call to Arms [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Commander Steve Rogers, Could be worse, Established Relationship, Established Steve Rogers/OC, F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Halloween Costumes, Kneel position, NSFW, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, One Shot, Oral Sex, Post-Pregnancy Sex, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Side by side position, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers/OC are parents, Steve has a stockings kink, Stockings, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Wizard of Oz References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomProducer/pseuds/PhantomProducer
Summary: Recovering from pregnancy and labor, as well as adjusting to parenting and work on top of all that, can certainly stall physical intimacy between anyone. However, after three months of healing and learning the ropes, Holly and Steve Rogers are all too ready to fall back into the swing of things.Set during Ch. 7 of the FF.net story,In Due Course. One-shot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ...Guess who's back? Miss Dirty Birdy over here... :-P
> 
> Back story, as always: In my ongoing series on FF.net, and specifically the story _In Due Course_ , Steve Rogers has been married for over a year, and has had a baby with his wife, Holly. After labor and subsequent injuries from the labor, she has needed time to recover from it. As well as that, they've been balancing parenting with their regular lives, and so that hasn't left much time for intimacy. However, after three months and a Halloween party, that has changed. This take place in October, 2016.
> 
> I own nothing of the MCU, just the OC, Holly Rogers (maiden name Martin). You can read about her relationship with Steve Rogers, and her experiences with the other Avengers over on FF.net under the same username I have here.

At that point, Holly was willing to call the evening a success. The Halloween party she and Steve had hosted had gone off well enough, their friends had departed for their own homes, and their baby boy was asleep, his first holiday well celebrated. The theme for the event had actually been pulled off successfully as well; Steve had made a lovely Scarecrow, little Grant was an adorable Cowardly Lion, and her Dorothy get-up had gone over well. (Bucky, she knew, would probably make her pay through the nose for having Natasha persuade him to dress up at the Tin Man, but at that moment, she couldn't care less.) What was more of a success was how her husband had handled her attire. She had not gone straight for the risque section of costuming. Rather, she'd gone a touch classy, ordering a dress that resembled the pinafore in the movie. And there was more than that (and the silver shoes) besides.  
  
The stockings had been a last-minute touch, but when she'd found them on the costume website, she could not resist. Not when she knew how much Steve would like them. As she was healed from her travails in giving birth to their son, she was feeling much like her old self again. And her old self delighted in the dark looks she could bring to those ice blue eyes, the smattering of red she could raise in his ears when she caught him staring at her. What thrilled her the most was when his gaze trailed up slowly, from her legs all the way up to her face, the desire and want clear in his features when he smirked at her. Gentleman that he could be, Steve Rogers was still a man, and as a man, he wanted his woman. Badly.  
  
That went both ways, of course; how she'd restrained herself until the others had gone home was beyond her, but she was not willing to wait much longer. And in that regard, he more than willing to oblige. Carrying her from the bathroom (where they'd been readying themselves for sleep mere moments beforehand), Steve laid her out on their bed, staring down at her for several long seconds. Holding up a single finger, he darted back into the bathroom, returning with a foil wrapper and a smirk. Rolling her eyes at him, she snickered when he tossed it onto the bedspread, on hand for later use. Checking the baby monitor on the nightstand once more, he proceeded to get down to business. Climbing over her then, he began to pepper her face and neck with kisses, open and hot against her skin. Scooting back to rest between her legs after a minute or two, he attempted to catch his breath, affording her a moment to look upon him. The make-up she'd helped apply to his face had been scrubbed clean, his blond hair skewed from the headpiece he'd worn—as well as by her hands when they'd embraced earlier. The costume had been shucked entirely, leaving him nearly bare, save for his underwear. Unlike her, as she was still mostly attired, save that her shoes was dropped on the bathroom floor and her wavy, dark hair had been released from its braids. Soon enough, he ran his palms up her ankles, over her calves and along her thighs, grinning as the nylon of the white stockings brushed his skin. Pushing up the skirt a little, he revealed the tops of the stockings, a low chortle coursing out of him when he spotted the blue-checked bows decorating them. Meeting her gaze once more, his smile grew wider as he pressed himself against her, arms wrapping around her as he kissed her again. Fingers stumbled along her back, up the seam of her zipper, and she giggled as well. He was so excited, so eager to have her, she noted pleasantly...  
  
_'Well, only until he gets the dress off,'_ her brain spat up then, shattering the ravenous film in her mind and forcing reality to hit her in the face. It continued on, cutting deeper the longer she thought on his possible reaction when he saw, without the filter of steam on the shower door or the flash being blocked on and off by her clothing, all that the pregnancy had done to her body. She only prayed that he had forgotten what she couldn't hide when she'd borrowed his shirt to sleep in after her best friend's wedding. Of course, she loved their son, would not trade him for anything in the world, but it was undeniable that having him had changed a few things. She still carried some of the weight she'd gained, and had earned some permanent stretchmarks on her lower abdomen. Without the aid of her bra, her breasts had a tendency to be less-than-perky nowadays, as well. A frisson of fear shot through her then; she knew exactly what she looked like now. Would he truly want her when he knew, too?  
  
“What? What is it?” Steve's voice cut through her thoughts. Pulled back into the moment, she felt the stiffness of his body in her arms, and saw the slip of his expression into self-disgust. Clearly, he had surmised that in the midst of their passion, he'd done something wrong, and she'd frozen, unhappy with him. Clearing his throat, he glanced around, as though he was looking for something to help rectify his mistake. Lighting upon an answer, he began to lift away from her, shaking his head to himself. “It's too fast, I should stop.”  
  
“No, no, don't,” she contradicted at once, a little lurch in her gut pinging through as she reached out for him. Halting everything now was not what she wanted, no matter what the evil little voices in her head were crooning. Coaxing him back into her embrace, she smoothed her fingers over the furrow of his brow, trying erase the doubt she'd sown. “It's fine, really. It's, it's just...”  
  
As she trailed off, Holly could see that her attempt at reassurance wasn't working. Steve remained off of her, though he did close his eyes as she cupped his cheek. Swallowing hard, she felt a bit foolish. Still, she recovered enough to press forward, to tell him the full truth.  
  
“I just don't want you to be disappointed,” she said, taking in the sight of him hovering over her. The muscles, the build, the strength of him in comparison was all at once arousing and disheartening. He always looked good, even with the wicked scar cutting down his chest now. And she...well...  
  
For his part, Steve stared at her, confusion twisting his face.  
  
“Doll,” he drawled, a flicker of shock dancing over his irises, “how could I be?”  
  
The frank glare she shot him was harsh enough to make him flinch. However, he did not look away. Instead, he widened his gaze, knowing the answer was right there, right on the tip of her tongue. She just had to say it. And say it she did, albeit while adopting a sudden, bashful expression.  
  
“Well, I don't exactly look the greatest, and, well...yeah,” she confessed, eyes unable to meet his as she spoke. She heard him breathe in deeply, his forehead dipping to rest in the crook of her neck. A low, long-suffering sigh blew out his mouth, and she cringed a little. With her fingers fidgeting with the sheets, her teeth worried her lip for a moment before she spoke again. “I know, it's stupid. I mean, you still had sex with me when I was nine months gone and the size of a house, and it shouldn't matter, but it also might feel different and—”  
  
Steve rose from his position, enough so that he was looming over her. His hands cupped her face, the soft, smooth strokes of his thumbs along her cheeks stemming her speech. But more than that, it was the look in his eyes. Beyond the blown pupils, beyond the rush of pink in his ears and face, was something more. Holly blinked up at him, unconsciously leaning into his touch as he soothed her.  
  
“Sweetheart, remember when I said there wasn't anything about you I don't like?” he asked her after a few seconds, stilling his ministrations. Unable to trust her voice, she merely nodded. The memory of their reinstated intimacy after she'd just gotten pregnant had resurfaced a few times in the past, had allowed her to power through and hold onto those desires with him during the latter half of it. Inclining his head, Steve told her, “I meant it. I still do.” Sitting back on his haunches again, he scratched at the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders briefly. “Sure, there are a couple things about you that drive me crazy on occasion, but they won't drive me away. You won't drive me away. And I'm sure it's the same with me to you.”  
  
A strangled laugh coursed out her throat, barely cut off as she looked up at him. Something akin to relief was pooling inside her, her fears assuaged little by little as she chuckled.  
  
“Yes, I guess you're right,” she agreed. Nobody was perfect, certainly not her. And Steve wasn't, either. Narrowing her eyes playfully at him, she provided examples. “Like when you're annoyingly stubborn and perceptive.”  
  
An eyebrow arched at her words, but his smirk remained in place.  
  
“Like when you're trying to deflect. Or being far too forthright,” he shot back, matching her expression. Tenderly, he took her hand in his, busses dropped along her knuckles before he lifted her palm up higher. Laying it flat over the ridge of his scar, over the mark that surgery or the serum would never be able to remove, he pressed it harder. She felt it, from the tip of her ring finger to the base of her palm, and she exhaled sharply. It wasn't the first scar on his body; several littered his skin, all from fights and scraps, from trying to do the right thing. However, it was his mark to bear after nearly losing his life, after nearly giving it up for her and their son. Sweetly, she brushed over it, caring for it as it was a part of him. How could she think he wouldn't care for parts of her? Hearts thumped as he dared to edge closer to her again, the intensity of his gaze unwavering as he looked at her, running from head to toe. “I love you, all of you. Your eyes, your mouth...how damn good you look in stockings.”  
  
Holly's genuine grin returned as he settled firmly between her legs, drawing them up to wrap around his waist. That, she was not about to disagree with him on. Particularly as they had gotten her exactly what she wanted: her husband's hands, his body, meeting with hers. Not fully, not yet, but the promise had been there all evening, beneath the innocence and fun of dressing up for Halloween shenanigans. She would have to have been blind not to notice the way his eyes never strayed far from her all night, the way he sought her out, hoping for a touch or a taste. He was getting his fill of one at that moment, at least; the pads of his fingers slid up and down the material, the heat bleeding through and warming her skin. The other, she knew, could not be far behind, if the strain of what was pressing into her lower half was any indication.  
  
Impishly, she retorted, “I would hope so, after the effort it takes to put them on.”  
  
“Definitely,” he affirmed, eyes half-lidded as he grinned down at her. Hitching one leg higher around his hip, he gave her flank a tap, sliding a finger down and toying with the top of the stocking there. A fresh wave of desire bloomed in his irises, and he hummed low in his throat. “You got gorgeous gams, doll.”  
  
Giggling, both at his declaration and at the flush of heat rolling through her, she reached down, giving his own, toned thigh a playful smack.  
  
“Right back atcha, fella,” she retorted, grinning as he snickered and accepting his kiss when he bent over her again. That time, the scrabble for the zipper on the dress was unhindered, save by the intensity of her mouth meeting his, the slide of tongues and deepening of the embrace occupying them well for several moments. Still, when Steve's hands found their way up her back, to the top, she did not stop him from pulling it down. Off it came, revealing the pale-colored under-attire she had chosen, along with the dips and valleys newly acquired on her body. Under the scrutiny, she fought the urge to cover herself, to hide away the flaws in spite of what Steve had told her. Balling her fists into the comforter beneath her, Holly risked a glance up at his face. The tension worming its way through her stomach was squashed by the naked want there, the rings of blue around his pupils so thin it had nearly disappeared. Spying her uncertainty, he pressed his palms to her sides, her stomach, unflinchingly caressing her before moving up to the curve of her breasts. The quiet moan that she gave emboldened him to squeeze, a shudder sliding down his spine when she thrust herself more into his grasp. Scrabbling around to the band around her back, he released the hooks of her bra, exposing her further as it was taken off. The rosy flush of her face as she relaxed back into the pillows of their bed, and how it traveled down her neck and lower, nearly did him in right there.  
  
“Beautiful. Always,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss. His lips trailed down her skin, following a path blazed by his hands as he moved down her body. Little nips and bites were peppered sporadically as he went, her sighs of pleasure growing as he lavished attention upon her breasts, over her stomach. Each mark left from carrying their child was accorded a stroke or a peck, his tongue laving over the starker ones. The simple adoration passed from him to her made her heart swell, and she hummed happily as he continued with his affections. Soon enough, she felt her dampening panties being shifted under his grasp, and she could hear the earnestness in his voice when he asked, “Can I?”  
  
Breathlessly, she nodded. Before he could pull them off of her, she gripped his bicep, stopping him and rolling onto her side.  
  
“Wait,” she mumbled, reaching out for her bedside table and opening the drawer. Digging around in it for a few moments, she tapped against what she was looking for and snatched it up. Withdrawing it, she rolled back into place again, holding it out to her husband. Another eyebrow spiked as he took it, the second joining it as he read the label. When he flicked a glance at her, she lifted a shoulder. She had known that the state of affairs between them, where sex was lacking, would not continue indefinitely. And because she knew that, she had wanted to be prepared. Kegel exercises had been done diligently as per the doctor's instructions, but she had also done her own research (research with the aid of Google, but still...), and some of the stories she'd read had filled her with horror. If she could prevent something going wrong with some simple lubricant that could be ordered or bought at the drug store, she would do it. Flashing a look at the clear evidence of his arousal straining against his boxer briefs, she said, “When you...use this. I don't want it to hurt.”  
  
The sheepishness applied to the words cut into him, and Steve nodded right away.  
  
“Okay, whatever you want,” he conceded, glancing at the bottle once more before dropping it into the bedding beside them. His fingers went back to the elastic band of her underwear, easing beneath it again. The bare brush of his skin along hers distracted her, though she had enough presence of mind to lift her hips when he tugged, aiding him in their removal. Her eyes fluttered open as work-rough palms slid along the inside of her thighs, along the stockings, more heat rushing through her as he spread her legs. Steve was not about to jump straight to the main event, as she had thought, despite the eagerness in his eyes. Focus was latched onto her lower half, his tongue daring to sneak out and wet his lips. Absolute hunger lit up his features, and with a lusty grin, he slowly trailed his gaze up to meet hers. Her earlier concerns were vanishing in the wind, and were pummeled further when he spoke again, his voice rough. “But let's see if you'll need it at all, first.”  
  
Confirming this with a sudden touch of his palm covering her sex, Holly nearly jumped at the contact, her gasps turning needier the longer he went with the cupping and brush of his skin. Knowing full well what she wanted from him, he took his time, reacquainting himself by touch. Long, languorous flits went up and down her slit, fingertips dancing and delving. Her breath hitched as his thumb grazed the small bundle of nerves, moving down to her entrance and pressing gently inside. At once, her hips started to roll, the silent wish for more all too obvious. She sensed his smarmy smirk as she closed her eyes in delight, with it remaining when she looked at him again.  
  
“Ooh, sweetheart, I don't think we'll need that stuff,” he murmured, continuing to tease her. However, the arousal in his form was spiking, and he was practically salivating after several moments; merely touching wasn’t enough. He lowered himself between her legs, thumbs rubbing along the skin above the stockings. Nuzzling at the join where skin met fabric, he cheekily toyed with the bows on each one, planting wet kisses above. His lips trailed higher, to the crease between leg and hip. There he stopped, proceeding to suck. Leaving his mark on her, her back began to bow a little, and he chuckled darkly. His breath coursed over her slit as he moved again, over the gathering wetness, and he nearly whispered, “You're doing just fine on your own.”  
  
With that pronouncement, Steve put his mouth to a better use, one that had Holly's eyes slamming shut and her hips canting, yearning for more. His forearm braced along her waist, pinning her in place as his tongue swirled around her nub, lapping up all that she had to offer. Desperately, she bit her lip, trying to quell the noises punching out of her. Their son was asleep just down the hall, she didn't want to wake the baby...but with her man moaning and flicking his tongue up and down her slit, she felt her resolve weakening. Sucks were followed by his delving into her passage, and her head was almost thrashing against the pillow.  
  
“Tastes so good,” he mumbled against her, another long lick following. Her fists curled harder into the sheets as he did so, her breath turning ragged just as he slid two fingers inside her. The lazy, gentle pumping along with his working mouth shredded the last of her reserves, and she bucked against his arm, so close to the edge.  
  
“God, Steven, yes!” she cried out, back arching higher and her thighs trembling. She couldn't take it any longer, couldn't hold back her verbal appreciations. Belatedly, she scolded herself in the back of her mind, and she half-turned her head towards the monitor on the stand.  
  
“Shh...” he told her, the vibrations going straight to her core. Another swipe or two with his tongue, and then he was above her on hands and knees, the sudden removal of his mouth leaving her dazed. Lazily, he licked his fingers clean, catching the smear of her essence at the corner of his mouth before he leaned in closer. Nudging to curve of her jaw with his nose, she held her breath when he got nearer to her ear, muttering, “Gotta be quiet, baby doll. Don't wanna wake the little guy, right?”  
  
Holly did not know if Steve had meant what he'd said to be a challenge, but when she met his eye, she caught the slight glimmer in them. Her eyebrows rose, the haze clearing up as she bent her mind towards her own endeavor. Threading her hand into his hair, she pulled him down, her mouth encompassing his. The swipes of her tongue along his own made him groan low, the sound coming straight from his chest. As her body pressed up, he could not help himself; his arms wrapped around her hungrily. Hips began to rock ever-so-slightly, his erection all the more obvious as he did so. Smiling against his lips, she nudged him over and onto his back. Greedily, he reached out to her when she pulled back, only to have his hands snatched and pushed down above his head. Steve's eyes shut against the onslaught of feeling, against the slide of her slicked stomach and breasts against him.  
  
“I can be quiet,” she crooned in his ear, teeth catching on his lobe and making him shiver. Edging back, she began to crawl down his body, her intent becoming clear as she grasped at the waist of his boxer briefs. Dark eyes met his, and her lascivious smirk made his breath catch, hardening him further. “Question is, can you?”  
  
Unable to verbalize a response, he merely set his jaw, raising his hips when she tugged at the briefs. As she pulled them off, a minute sigh of relief poured out his nose as his penis was freed. The hard, aching want that had been pulsing through him increased, especially when he caught her staring and licking her lips in anticipation. That was all the warning she gave him before leaning down and swirling her tongue around him. At once, his chest heaved and his back stiffened, and he lost himself in her ministrations for several long seconds.  
  
“Oh, God,” he growled, almost cross-eyed at the sensation of the hot, wet suction of her mouth when she drew him in.  
  
“Shh,” was her apt rejoinder, the whisper against his shaft causing him to twitch beneath her. Lolling his head back briefly, he forced himself to focus. He wanted to see, wanted to watch as she took him a little deeper each time she bobbed. One hand circled what she could not take in, stroking as the other cradled his balls. The sounds compacted the overwhelming sensations, ecstasy flooding his veins as she hummed and sucked, breathing through her nose as she went. Biting down so hard on his lip that he almost drew blood, he managed to restrain himself from thrusting up too much into her mouth, not wanting to lose himself that way. It was difficult, though; he very much enjoyed being pleasured in that way, and she certainly knew what shoved him over the edge in that regard. However, that was not how he wanted the encounter to end, not the first time after she'd given birth. He had wanted her so much, needed her more than just her lips and teeth (no matter how good they felt, grazing the ridge between head and shaft). Shaking his head hard, his palms scooped under her arms, pulling her up and off of him with a pop.  
  
“Please, baby doll, I gotta...” he practically begged, fingers combing through her hair and eyes wild. Automatically, her head dipped in a nod, hands braced on his thighs as she agreed.  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
  
Crawling up the bed, she fell beside him as he fetched up the condom he had brought along earlier. Despite being primed already, she found herself reaching for the lubricant, a small dab of it spread over the condom as it was rolled down. Steve's eyes shut tightly at her touch, and he panted. Fighting to get back under control, he waited until the bottle of lubricant was tossed away, opening his eyes and staring directly into hers. Seizing her still-covered leg, he eased it over his hip, opening and widening her. Taking himself in hand, he guided himself into her, short gasps rocketing out as he slid in. For a moment, they paused, joined together for the first time in months and reveling in the feeling. Soon enough, though, they could not merely sit, with Holly twitching her hips in an effort to get him to start. Bringing up his own knee a little more, he widened her further, giving himself more room to thrust. He would go slowly for her sake, he had determined, not wishing to hurt her or cause her any pain, and he did just that. Hands gripped whatever skin they could grasp, lips pressed to whatever was closest, hot sensuality descending over them as they met each other over and over on the pass.  
  
“That feel good?” he wondered after a minute or two, one hand cupping her breast as the other extended above her head for ballast. Holly dully noted that she may have heard the sheets rip as he held on, but could not remark upon it. Not when Steve so thoroughly occupied her.  
  
“Uh-huh,” she groaned, head tipping back as he pumped into her. She had feared she would be in pain, that it would not feel as good as it used to, for either of them. Apparently, she was dead wrong. She would have to thank the doctor for encouraging the exercises, and the lube company as well, she mused privately, the thought shoved away as Steve drove in again. Treasuring the glide and shift, she found herself almost wriggling a bit, her hips just about snapping to meet his. Sliding a hand down his chest to his waist, her nails dug in a little, and he hissed sharply. Quietly, she urged, “Can go...a little harder. Please...”  
  
He did not need to be told twice; if that was what his wife wanted, she would have it that way. “Yes, ma'am.”  
  
At once, he rolled them over, with her legs wrapping around his waist automatically. Shaking his head, he pulled out of her; he had another idea entirely. Resting back on his haunches again, Steve reached and snatched at her wrists. Holly let herself be guided up, onto her knees, her mouth questing for his as he brought her forward. Complying, he met her stroke for stroke, even as he guided her knees to rest on either side of his legs. Hoisting her up, one arm wrapped around her waist, he took himself in his free hand again, the tip used to taunt at her entrance. The blossom of fire in her eyes made his own jump up as she shook her head, rocking her hips until he pressed inside of her. His brief smirk vanished as she slid all the way home, moans pouring out their throats as he bottomed out. So close to her, wrapped up in her, he could not fathom putting off the inevitable, and so resumed thrusting, as hard as she'd wanted.  
  
“God, I've missed this,” he groaned, pounding up into her and relishing the warmth of her body against his. Although the bed itself was on a steel-reinforced platform frame, the headboard was free, and had started creaking in tandem with their rocking. Without missing a beat or drawing away, Holly had reached back, grabbing at it and stabilizing it enough to minimize the noise. Mentally applauding her quick thinking, Steve could only grin briefly at her. Mouthing along her jaw, his fingers wound into her hair, the waves tangling as he pulled her back for a fast, hot kiss. Against her lips, he murmured, “Missed you.”  
  
“You, too,” she breathed, gasping as the tremors down below threatened to spill over. The fill and thrust of him inside her was almost too much to bear, atop the press of his cut form and the knead of his hands in her hair and on her ass. The heat of it all, the sweat and tongues and teeth connecting over and over as their lower halves did tightened the string in her gut. The piston and draw, power and push of each meeting was so good. Electric sparks shot through with every grind upon the bundle of nerves, ratcheting her higher and higher. A suck at her pulse point, his tongue swirling and his thrust driving deeper and deeper—nudging the spot inside her over and over again—and she could not hang on any longer. One hand buried into his hair as the other released the headboard and clutched at his back, nails digging in as she crested and fell over the edge. True to her promise, she muffled her cries by biting down on the meat of his shoulder. The muted crack and break of her voice in her throat echoed in his ear, and Steve gritted his teeth. The scratch of her nails on his scalp and his back drove him on, his own release chased after. Four hard thrusts followed before he stiffened, heat bursting through and out of him swiftly. His harsh grunts were stifled against the column of her neck, the sweat and salt of her skin on his lips as he exhaled in sharp, fast puffs.  
  
Tremulous aftershocks rocked them both, the tingle in Steve's nerves sparked still by the way Holly laved at the bite marks she'd left behind, soothing them as they both came down from their high. Another groan was punched out of his gut when he finally slipped from her, allowing her to lie back on the bed once more. Hovering over her, trying to catch his breath, he dropped a kiss on the crown of her head before shuffling off, his shaky limbs carrying him into the en-suite bathroom. In her haze, she was about to call out, ask him what he was doing, when she heard the rustle of plastic and the soft _thwip_ of something being dropped into the waste basket. More shuffling, and then running water turned on and off. Raising herself onto her elbows, she watched as the door opened again, her husband stepping out. One wet washcloth was tossed backwards, landing on the bathroom floor before he flicked off the lights, presumably used for cleaning himself up. Another was in hand, which he brought to her. Instead of proffering it to her, he took it upon himself to swipe away the mess he'd helped her create, slow, tender strokes against her making her head loll back into the pillow as he did so. Once she was cleaned, too, he threw the cloth in the general direction the other had gone (both of them silently resolving to tidy up the bathroom the next morning; they sure as hell could not be bothered to do so then). Swiftly, he went to turn off the overhead light, and numbly she reached over to her nightstand, turning on the single lamp and dousing the room in its soft, yellow glow. She reached out to him as he laid down on the bed again, with him readily complying and retreating into her embrace, his goofy grin embedded on his lips as he did so. For a long time, they rested in the silence; their slowly steadying breaths and the whir of the baby monitor were the only sounds breaking up the quiet of the night. Until a coherent thought occurred to her and she couldn't help but voice it.  
  
“Three months,” she mumbled, low enough that she thought only she could hear it. However, Steve's eyes opened then, his ears having pricked up slightly. The arm looped around her waist tightened, and he spiked an eyebrow.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Just saying, three months,” Holly replied, sighing when his forehead creased in question. Lifting a shoulder, she idly traced patterns on his chest, along his scar before supplying the rest of her thoughts. She knew that there were people out there who did not resume relations with their spouse for over a year after having a baby, but even so, she felt it had been awhile for them, personally. “It's a long time to go without. Must have been driving you up the wall.”  
  
Steve chuckled at that. “Considering I went much longer prior to that, it wasn't so bad.”  
  
Her answering grin was wan, but her next words were heartfelt. “Thank you for being patient.”  
  
He cupped her cheek then, the pad of his thumb running over the skin. Seriousness invaded his expression, enveloping the afterglow.  
  
“I would've waited for however long you needed,” he promised her, meaning it. She'd needed to heal, and recover, and he was not of a mind to impede that. If she had felt she needed longer to do so, then he would have supported her in it. His lips landed atop the scar above her eyebrow, and she closed her eyes when he drew back and braced his forehead against hers.  
  
Another heartbeat of quiet, and then: “And keep taking suspiciously long showers in the meantime?”  
  
That earned her a snort and an eye roll as he pulled away, though the humor in both was obvious.  
  
“Regular laugh riot, as always.”  
  
“Damn right, I'm hilarious,” she riposted, snuggling closer to him again. His fingers started to comb through her hair, and a contented sigh rose in her chest. Running her thumb along the curve of his jaw, she murmured, “Still, thank you, love.”  
  
The gentle grip in her hair returned, tilting her head back. Full, slightly chapped lips descended onto hers, the adoration and love in the gesture filling her up in that instant.  
  
“You're welcome,” he said as they broke apart some time later, giving her a moment to get her bearings again before returning for more. Sweet, slow sips were given and taken, the tenderness of it giving way, little by little, to the fire that was still burning low in their bellies. Or, at least it had until a choked cry came over the monitor. Halting, Steve's face was laced with frustrated amusement (Holly's expression was a lighter reflection of his) when it came again, louder than before. Though the baby was more inclined to sleep longer, he still woke up at odd hours on occasion. All that remained was to find out why Grant had woken this time. Inhaling deeply, he muttered, “Uh-oh, he's up.”  
  
About to move away and take care of the little guy, he was stopped by her palm on his bicep, her head shaking at him.  
  
“I got Grant,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. Sliding away from him and off of the bed, she tripped lightly over to the closet. Stepping inside, she pulled her rarely-worn robe off of the hanger, situating it around her shoulders and tying it off tightly. All the while, she felt Steve's gaze running over her, catching him in the act when she peered back at him. He'd since sat up, resting against the headboard, the sheets and pillows of the bed a tangled mess beneath him. Striding over to him, she hooked one knee up on the side of the mattress, leaning over and bussing the corner of his mouth. Hooded eyes stared down at him when she shifted back, and her lips curved up. “Wait for me?”  
  
Blue eyes trailed over her form, from the neck of the robe down to the stockings she was still wearing, and he grinned. The feral twist of his expression could not be subdued, and it sent a secret thrill through her upon seeing it. Still, he nodded demurely, tucking some of her hair back behind her ear.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
With that agreed, she pecked him once more, exiting the room with a spring in her step despite the late hour. Snickering to himself, Steve settled back, arms crooking behind his head as he made good on his promise. It was well worth the wait, a lopsided smile stretching over his lips as she returned from settling their son, with her dropping the robe and climbing into his lap once more; it always would be, in his opinion.


End file.
